


Alone Together

by Reyka_Sivao



Category: Mahou Shoujo Madoka Magika | Puella Magi Madoka Magica
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Canon-Typical Violence, Canonical Character Death, F/F, Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-06
Updated: 2013-02-06
Packaged: 2017-11-28 09:08:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,770
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/672683
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Reyka_Sivao/pseuds/Reyka_Sivao
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This time, she wasn’t alone in the cold.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Alone Together

**Author's Note:**

> Story written for the Secret Coconut, a fic exchange promoted by the community Saint Seiya Super Fics Journal. 
> 
> Starts in the third timeline, with certain liberties taken with the fourth. Any liberties taken with the fifth timeline are the result of me mixing up my details, and should probably be ignored.
> 
> Also this is only based on Madoka Magica—a quick wiki reveals that it contracts some of the supporting material, so…sorry about that. ^^;

They had known each other for ages, of course. Magical Girls had a way of finding each other.  
  
But they had never worked together before. Magical Girls also had a way of becoming mortal enemies—something Kyoko was particularly known for.  
  
But for Mami, teamwork was something best left, forgotten, in her human past. She was a Magical Girl now, and that meant solitude.  
  
At least, it always had.  
  
But Homura had insisted—strange, enigmatic Homura, who had somehow become a Magical Girl without Kyubey knowing about it, which was cause enough to give her the benefit of the doubt.  
  
And so the five of them fought witches together (too many witches, and stronger than they should have been), and waiting for the day Homura insisted would come.  
  
But it wasn’t the most peaceful of teamups. There were petty arguments and mistrust, and clear lines of divide. Madoka and Sayaka had always been friends, so they formed a natural pair, and Homura hovered around Madoka with a strange intensity that often prompted Sayaka to butt heads with her.  
  
This arrangement left Mami out in the cold looking longingly inward, just as she always had since becoming a Magical Girl.  
  
But this time, she wasn’t alone in the cold.  
  
That was how it started.  
  
Kyoko wouldn’t admit to the loneliness that marked the borders of Mami’s world, but Mami could see t anyway. She could see it in the expansive gestures that kept the world at arm’s length, could hear it in her dismissive comments, could feel it in the instant’s pause before those comments.  
  
But she didn’t say anything…because what was there to say?  
  
And then she found out that Kyoko didn’t have a proper place to stay.  
  
“You can live with me,” she’d said, without thinking.  
  
Kyoko had just laughed. “I can get what I need on my own.”   
  
“I know,” said Mami. “But my apartment’s too big for me anyway.”  
  
Kyoko raised a hand dismissively, so Mami added “And I have so much food…I hope it doesn’t all go to waste.”  
  
Kyoko paused, head half-tilted. Mami didn’t know why food was such a big deal for her, but it was. Perhaps it was just her own little Magical Girl quirk, like her own insistence on always, always naming her attacks.  
  
“Well,” said Kyoko. “I’d hate to see anything go to waste.”  
  
And so Mami had set up the extra futon next to her own, and Kyoko had stayed over that first night.  
  
Time had a strange way of expanding when you were a Magical Girl—the long, cold nights when sleep never came were part of it, as was the clarity that came of living with death every single day. Perhaps that was how those two short weeks came to seem fuller than anything in her life had ever been.  
  
Or perhaps it was that the long nights weren’t quite as cold.  
  
There was something about night that was somehow  _thinner_  than ordinary reality. Thoughts and memories were closer to the surface, less easily buried and forgotten.  
  
And now she found that, by the same token, words flowed more freely, even from those who would otherwise deny everything.  
  
“My father was a preacher, you know,” Kyoko had said, apropos of nothing. “And my mother helped him. I had a little sister, too. She liked candy apples the best.”  
  
Mami stared up into the darkness.  
  
“Did you have any family?” asked Kyoko. Not  _do you_.  _Did you._  
  
Mami took a deep breath.  
  
“My father was a schoolteacher. My mother was a writer.” Her throat closed up. “I...had a sister too. She was just…just a baby, really. Not old enough for a favorite sweet.” She curled over on her side, the simple fact that her sister had never had a favorite sweet suddenly the most terrible tragedy she could imagine.  
  
The silence slipped back around them.  
  
“What happened to them?” asked Kyoko, at length.  
  
“Car accident.”  
  
“Before or after?” There was no need to specify what.  
  
“Before. Just before.” She paused a moment. “I wished to live.”  
  
Silence.  
  
“Do you regret it?”  
  
Mami was silent for another long moment.  
  
“…no,” she said. It wasn’t as easy to say now, with the memories of her life Before so near and unbuffered, but it was still as close as she could get to the truth.  
  
“Lucky,” said Kyoko, and rolled over.  
  
The silence once again merged with the darkness, and this time neither of them broke it.  
  
It was hard to say if that was the moment that changed things, or whether that moment came earlier or later, but the fact remained that things had changed.  
  
Perhaps they shouldn’t have changed so quickly, but what choice did a Magical Girl have, but to live quickly, if she wanted to live at all?  
  
Kyoko’s status as “guest” slipped away, forgotten, as she became as permanent a resident as any of them could imagine as they waited for things to change.  
  
“Do you regret living?” asked Mami on another of those nights where the silence seemed harder than words.  
  
“Regret living? Nah,” said Kyoko, and Mami was prepared to let that be the end of it.  
  
“…it’s my wish I regret.”  
  
Mami’s eyes opened into the darkness.  
  
“What…was it?”  
  
Kyoko’s breath shifted, and it was a moment before she answered.  
  
“Well…in retrospect, I wished for hundreds of strangers to be brainwashed, so I guess it’s my own damn fault it backfired.” She laughed harshly. “You know a child’s vision of truth: Truth is whatever the most respected person in your life tells you is true. I only wanted other people to see that what he said was  _right._ ” She laughed again, this time with an almost ragged edge to it. “And of course, the greatest truth my father ever taught was that any real change for the better had to start with individuals making a choice.”  
  
“…oh,” said Mami.  
  
“He killed them,” said Kyoko, matter-of-factly.  
  
“—what?”  
  
“My father. When he realized what had happened. What he’d become. When he realized that no matter what he said, people would believe him, whether they wanted to or not.” Kyoko swallowed. “He killed my mother, my little sister—would have killed me, too, if I could be offed that easily—and then himself.”  
  
There was a space of several heartbeats before she added, “…I almost envy your family.”  
  
Mami’s throat closed, and for a moment, she couldn’t breathe. Bitter memories swirled in the cold night air and she shuddered under the blankets that suddenly did her no good. She curled up on her side, but instead of tucking up under her chin, as she thought she’d intended, her hand slipped out from under the covers and onto the nearby futon.  
  
Her hand found Kyoko’s, and the other girl didn’t pull away from the sudden warmth of contact.  
  
For the first time she could remember since Before, Mami slipped quietly and peacefully into sleep.  
  
They woke under the same blanket, curled around each other like hands cupped around a dying flame.  
  
Exactly how that happened, neither was quite sure, but neither questioned it, and it too became part of the way the world was. They curled up together to sleep, and then neither had to wake up alone.  
  
They never spoke of it, but they shared that same warmth again the next night, and again, and again, each acting as a shield against the endless cold that lurked just at the edge of their perception.  
  
It might be foolish. It almost certainly was. But they clung to each other, trying not to drown in the sea they hadn’t realized they were jumping into when they made their wishes, and finally allowed themselves to hope.  
  
It was a pale, fragile hope, and still not even half-formed, but it was  _theirs_. Maybe there was something more. They couldn’t afford to think about exactly what that might be, but maybe, if things went well, if only they survived Walpurgisnacht, then maybe…  
  
Maybe…  
  
…maybe…  
  
Mami’s insides froze in shock as her puppet body played catch-up to what her mind as just heard.  
  
No.  
  
 _No._  
  
It couldn’t be! It couldn’t!  
  
But even as her mind raced to deny it, the pieces crashed one after another into clear, unholy clarity.  
  
It had to be true. It couldn’t be, but it was. She had seen it with her own eyes, no matter how much she tried to reinterpret it.  
  
She had seen their fate.  
  
She now knew exactly what future awaited them, what awaited all Magical Girls  _lucky_  enough to avoid being killed by Witches.  
  
There was no hope.  
  
There had never been any hope. It had been nothing but a cruel illusion.  
  
Her Soul Gem flooded with an eager, all-consuming blackness as despair filled her to the brim. She cast one last look at the source of what little hope she had ever had.  
  
The look of shock on Kyoko’s face highlighted the kind of innocence even her most jaded moments had never been able to entirely erase, and Mami’s heart shattered at the thought of  _her_  succumbing to the darkness of despair. It was too much to bear.  
  
 _…I almost envy your family._  
  
The sudden shock of realization on the heels of the first sent the darkness in her Soul Gem reeling back slightly.  
  
No.  
  
There was still one last hope.  
  
There might never be a  _good_  end to a Magical Girl’s life, but—  
  
—there was still a  _better_  end.  
  
Mami raised the gun in her shaking hands.  
  
 _I’m sorry._  
  
She cast the thought to the universe, and then, without hesitation, she pulled the trigger.  
  
She didn’t wait for the pieces of Kyoko’s shattered Soul Gem to hit the ground. She couldn’t. She had to save the others before her soul was completely corrupted.  
  
She spun to Homura next, trapping her in her ribbons. She couldn’t risk letting her turn back time and let this all happen again, please not again, and Madoka would never—  
  
She never finished the thought.  
  
Madoka’s arrow hit the ground, surrounded by the pieces of Mami’s Soul Gem, all but one small fragment already dark with despair.

* * *

Mami’s eyes opened.  
  
Her apartment was bright around her, bright and cold and empty as ever.  
  
Mami rose and carefully fixed her face and hair, pasting on her brightest smile as she looked into the shallow mirror, doing her best to disguise the chill and emptiness behind her eyes  
  
She had a job to do.  
  
Everything was the same, everything was always the same. School was just a distraction from fighting Witches, fighting Witches was just a distraction from her borderland state as not-quite-human, and existential crises were nothing but a distraction from the rarely-faced fact that her life was guaranteed to be lonely, violent, and very, very short.  
  
Readjusting her smile, Mami slipped quietly into her life as an ordinary schoolgirl.  
  
It wasn’t until a few days later, as she was living in her other life as a slayer of the things that haunt human nightmares, that she realized that something might not be  _quite_  the same.  
  
The other girl shouldn’t have been there—in fact, as far as Mami know, she shouldn’t exist at all. Kyubey hadn’t told her about contracting with any new Magical Girls, but Mami was sure that this girl hadn’t been a Magical Girl before.   
  
If she had been, they would have known each other for ages—Magical Girls had a way of finding each other.  
  
Of course, Magical Girls also had a way of becoming mortal enemies, and this girl proved more than capable at that facet of their life.  
  
“Stay away,” said the mystery girl. “This is my city now.”  
  
“How can you believe you can protect this city on your own? You have to be rather new at this.”  
  
The girl grimaced. “I do what I have to do.”  
  
“But how? Even if I could afford to do without grief seeds, how can you ask me to believe that you could protect the city on your own? How do you know what to do?”  
  
Her face was blank. “Trial and error.”  
  
“One wrong step and you could doom the whole city.”  
  
The girl stared fixedly at a point that Mami couldn’t see.  
  
“I know. You’ll just have to trust me, Mami.”  
  
“…how do you know my name?”  
  
The girl’s frozen face cracked for an instant, but before Mami could figure out what emotion she had betrayed, the girl vanished before her eyes.  
  
Mami’s hand jumped to her ring, ready to transform if the girl attacked, but there was nothing.  
  
Frowning Mami considered her options. She didn’t usually like teaming up with other Magical Girls, but something was very much off here. There was only one other Magical Girl in the immediate area, so…  
  
“…you want what, now?”  
  
“Believe me, something’s wrong.  _Kyubey_  doesn’t even know where she came from, and now she’s just popping in and acting like she’s been guarding the city forever.”  
  
“Short version being, there’s  _already_  too many Magical Girls in the area. It’s hard enough to get enough Grief Seeds where I am, without competing with the both of you.”  
  
Frowning, Mami started to object…and then paused to consider.  
  
“Actually…” she said, thinking back on the last week or so, “…that might not be true.”  
  
Kyoko shifted back and folded her arms. “What, precisely?”  
  
“What you said about there being too many Magical Girls.” Mami closed her eyes, thinking hard. “I hadn’t even thought about it until now, but…there have been more witches than usual. A  _lot_  more. I thought it was just a fluke, but…” She opened her eyes again. “Something is drawing them to the city. I don’t know what it is, but I would bet my Wish that it has something to do with that new Magical Girl.”  
  
Kyoko paused, considering.  
  
“So, you’ve been stealing all my witches?”  
  
Mami grimaced. “If I say yes, will you come back with me?”  
  
Kyoko grinned. “Throw a meal in there, and you just might have me.”  
  
Mami sighed. “Fine.”  
  
“Deal.”  
  
That was how Kyoko ended up at her apartment, taking up some of the space that always seemed so oppressively empty, her fiery personality taking the edge off the chill that no furnace could touch.  
  
Without asking, Mami got out the extra futon and blankets. Kyoko tried to object, but eventually each found herself on her separate futon, talking softly, not quite sure why to trust the other with the darkest parts of her story, but doing so anyway.  
  
“She always believed in him, even when he couldn’t,” said Kyoko. “But in the end, he couldn’t trust her to live without him.” She laughed darkly. “Not that I can really blame him. He wasn’t a monster before I made him one.”  
  
“You didn’t know.”  
  
“I wished for him to become the opposite of everything he ever believed in. How can I be surprised that that drove him to the point of madness?”  
  
“You didn’t  _know._ ”  
  
Kyoko sighed. “At least your wish didn’t hurt anyone.”  
  
Mami was silent for as long as she could hold her breath, and then drew a great sobbing gasp.  
  
“I could have wished for anything. I could have wished for  _anything at all_. Kyubey would have had to save me if he wanted me to fight witches. Why didn’t I wish for my family to live?  _Why?_ ”  
  
“That wouldn’t have ended well,” said Kyoko quietly.  
  
“It  _didn’t_  end well! My sister! She wasn’t even three! How can that be a better end?”  
  
“You  _know_  how it could be worse! How was my family’s end not worse? At least yours died as themselves, instead of monsters created by your own wish! I almost _envy_  your family!” She tightened her lips. “Trust me, selfish wishes are for the best.”  
  
“How is that  _not_  selfish? I don’t care about the other people in the wreck! I just want my family back with me, so I don’t have to be alone anymore!”   
  
She took another shuddering breath. “I want my parents back to take care of me, so I don’t have to take care of myself. I want my sister back so I can hug her and tell her how much I love her, even when she gets my hair gel all over the bathroom. I want my family because they’re  _mine._ ”  
  
Kyoko was quiet for a long, long moment, and Mami started regretting her outburst. She found that she didn’t want the other girl to leave.  
  
“I’m—”  
  
 _Sorry_ , she was going to say, but she was cut off by Kyoko’s low laugh. It wasn’t exactly humorous, but it wasn’t as bitter as she’d feared.  
  
“Heh. You know, we might have more in common than I thought.” She paused, and then added, “I think my sister would have liked you. She was right at that age where they can’t stand their own older siblings, but I think she would have liked you.”  
  
She rolled over, clearly ready to end the conversation—but as an afterthought, with her back still to Mami, she added, “If my father was right, and we do all share an afterlife, I’ll introduce you to her once the witches finally get us.”  
  
Mami settled into the blankets, staring at the ceiling.  
  
“…I’d like that.”  
  
The night was just as dark as ever, but there was a warmth there that Mami coveted with all her being.  
  
Life was far from the careful normal she’d built up, and Mami wasn’t at all sure how it had all changed so quickly.  
  
The witches were indeed far more numerous—and powerful—than they had any right to be, and there were several times when she knew for a fact that she would have been killed without Kyoko by her side. It was utterly exhausting, even as a team, and she found her respect for the mysterious stranger building.  
  
Homura, as she had finally admitted to being called, fought at least as many witches as the two of them put together, in addition to hanging around Mami’s school for reasons of her own. Who she could be watching, Mami had no idea—she didn’t even have any idea how she could  _know_  anyone at the school, since Mami had never seen her there before—but in an case, Mami couldn’t even figure out how she found enough time for everything.  
  
Everything was building towards something, Mami was sure of it. She could feel it, with a certainty that she couldn’t quite pin down. Kyoko felt the same way.  
  
 _Something_  was coming. Something huge.  
  
If only they know what it was!  
  
When they first heard the weather reports, Mami’s heart froze a little. The utter, utter wrongness of what the humans said was happening sent her racing to the nearest doorway to see it for herself.  
  
The suddenly chilled air that met her skin was nothing compared to the ice in her soul when she saw the enormous form of the most powerful Witch in history.  
  
Only her death grip on the door frame kept her slipping to her knees as the crowd pushed and jostled around her to get to the nominal safety she’d just abandoned.  
  
As the last stragglers slipped past her, Kyoko appeared by her side.  
  
“Well,” she said, gazing at the surreality that pulsed off the Witch like a twisted halo. “You know, I think I’m looking forward to introducing you to my family.”  
  
Mami let go of the door frame and stood on her own two feet.  
  
“Likewise.”  
  
Kyoko nodded stiffly, and they were off.  
  
Homura was there too, ignoring them as she appeared and reappeared, apparently though not visibly responsible for the small army’s worth of explosives that kept finding their way toward whatever looked like it might be a weak spot.  
  
But Mami couldn’t spare an ounce of attention for any of that.  
  
Black tendrils, patterned with unearthly shapes in the sickly rainbow sheen of an oil spill, reached out for them, trying to forcibly steal the hope from their souls even as they spent it on the magic that kept them alive.  
  
Mami stumbled, staring blankly, and fell to her knees.  
  
What was it worth?  
  
Why were they even trying?  
  
“Catch!” shouted Kyoko, jarring Mami enough that the caught the object thrown to her.  
  
A Grief Seed?  
  
With a sudden start, she pulled her Soul Gem out of her hair pin.  
  
Sure enough, it was almost entirely dark.  
  
With silent thanks, she touched the Grief Seed to it and felt new strength pour into it as the despair faded.  
  
She rose to her feet, ready to leap back into the fray, only to see Kyoko thrown back with a cry of pain.  
  
“No!”  
  
It mattered more than she ever should have let it, but it was too late for regrets.  
  
She took a flying leap and caught Kyoko in midair, landing as softly as she could.  
  
“It’ll be all right,” she found herself saying. “I can use healing magic, it’ll be all right…”  
  
“No,” said Kyoko. “You’ve got to fight, or we’re  _all_  doomed.”  
  
“It’ll be all right…” said Mami, ignoring her and summoning the healing glow she so rarely had occasion to use.  
  
“No!” cried Kyoko.  
  
Mami didn’t have time to realize that this wasn’t just another objection before the Witch’s attack ht her full on.  
  
 _Well_ , she thought as the world went slow around her.   
  
 _At least I’ll get to meet her family._  
  
As she fell, she used her last ounce of strength to reach out and pull herself toward the other girl.   
  
For just an instant, their lips met, and then Mami’s world slipped into the endless black.  
  
She was lucky that she never had to see what happened next.  
  
Even before the pieces of her shattered Soul Gem hit the ground, Kyoko let out a scream of despair.  
  
The red Soul Gem at Kyoko’s throat jumped to utter black, and burst out of the confines of its shape as Kyoko’s lifeless body fell to the ground.  
  
The new Witch pulsed with dark fury, despair bleeding tangibly into the air around it.  
  
The Grief Seeds the Magical Girls had been carrying pulsed in time with it, feeding on the emptiness until the dormant Witches in them woke to full life.  
  
Together, the newly awakened Witches rose and flew toward the giant amalgam above them, adding their power to its own as Homura faced it alone.  
  
Below them all, the bodies of the two Magical Girls lay twisted together in a mockery of an embrace.

* * *

Mami’s eyes opened.  
  
Her apartment was bright around her, bright and cold and empty as ever.  
  
Mami rose and started her morning routine, but it took an extra try this morning before she could paste on her usual bright smile.  
  
Everything was the same.  
  
Everything was exactly the same.  
  
So why did she feel like something was missing?  
  
Why couldn’t she shake the feeling that she had forgotten something important?  
  
Mami stared back at the blank eyes in the mirror a moment longer before shaking herself out of her strange state.  
  
She had a job to do.  
  
Still, she spent the rest of the day restless, trying to find the source of the feeling. But it was a perfectly normal day, as far as she was concerned. The most notable thing about it was the announcement of a transfer student set to come to their school in a few day’s time, and not even in her class.  
  
She would have denied it, but she even kept an eye on the transfer student as a possible source of explanation for her strange state of mind, but she proved not to be whatever it was she was looking for.  
  
She was, however, a very odd character indeed, as Mami found out when she met her in her other life as well.  
  
As far as Mami could tell, the other girl shouldn’t even exist.  
  
Kyubey hadn’t told her about contracting with any new Magical Girls, but Mami was sure that this girl hadn’t been a Magical Girl before—they had a way of finding each other.  
  
But then again, Magical Girls also had a way of becoming mortal enemies, and this girl seemed to care as little for that convention as for the other. In fact, Mami wasn’t sure she cared about anything at all.  
  
“Who are you?” asked Mami.  
  
“Homura,” said Homura simply, as though that explained everything.  
  
“How did you become a Magical Girl?”  
  
Her face darkened. “The same as all of us. I made a contract with that  _creature._ ”  
  
Several questions rose to Mami’s lips, but before she could voice any of them, Homura continued.  
  
“I would have warned you against contracting with it, if I could. It’s too late for that, but I do have a warning for you: stay away from Madoka. I don’t care what else you do. Just stay away from her.”  
  
Mami wrinkled her nose. Madoka? As in Madoka Kaname, a grade below her and in a different class?  
  
“Why—”  
  
But Homura was gone.  
  
It was hardly a day later that Mami came across Madoka, and Kyubey, and an emotionless Homura attempting to kill Kyubey.  
  
What did the dark girl know that she shouldn’t know? And how?  
  
Still, circumstances being what they were, she ignored the unwanted warning and offered to train Madoka as a Magical Girl if she wanted to.  
  
She should have warned her against it, really. But if Madoka had the chance Mami never had, to think her with through before she made it…  
  
Mami shook off her qualms, the temptation of having a friend in her lonely life too much to bear.  
  
Wasn’t that what she was missing?  
  
 _No._  
  
 _Not quite._  
  
Shaking off the feeling that she was settling for second best, Mami showed Madoka all the wonders of being a Magical Girl, and avoided the prospect of having to tell her about the downsides.  
  
It wasn’t until Madoka promised to stay by her side, as she fought with a elation she never remembered feeling before, that the feeling came back to haunt her.  
  
She should have been more careful. She shouldn’t have shown off, shouldn’t have been so overconfident.  
  
As the Witch’s grotesquely grinning form arched over her, Mami knew she was staring death in the face.  
  
 _No,_  was her dying thought.  
  
 _I can’t die now._  
  
 _I haven’t found her yet._  
  


* * *

Mami opened her eyes.  
  
“No…” she whispered, staring back at the place where Sayaka had just been standing.  
  
The brilliance of her last attack had hurt to look at, so none of them had quite seen what had happened, but the results were clear.  
  
Sayaka was gone, as was the demon she had been fighting.  
  
“She used up the last of her magic,” said Kyoko, quietly.  
  
Homura—quiet Homura—started crying, clutching at a pink ribbon that Mami didn’t remember her having.  
  
“Madoka,” Homura whispered. “No, Madoka…”  
  
“Who?” said Kyoko.  
  
Homura just shook her head.  
  
Mami was filled with a strange mix of feelings. At the name, she felt like she’d accidentally let something slip away from her, like a word at the tip of her tongue.  
  
But even with that strange inconsistency, there was a strangely  _present_  sense of rightness about the universe that even her shock and grief at Sayaka’s death could only overshadow, and not overturn.  
  
She turned her attention back to the empty place in front of them.  
  
“I told her,” she said sorrowfully. “I told her she was using too much. We could have taken it without her! Why did she have to go and spend herself like that?”  
  
“She was too brash,” said Kyoko with bowed head. “She never should have contracted.”  
  
“No,” said Homura, softly. “She shouldn’t have.”  
  
They stood together in silence for a few minutes, heads bowed, remembering their fallen comrade.  
  
Finally, Kyoko took a deep breath and looked up.  
  
“Come on,” she said, turning to Homura. “We might not be able to have a proper memorial service, but we should do something.”  
  
She glanced back at Mami, who nodded slightly.  
  
“Come on back to our place, and we’ll call it a wake then, shall we?”  
  
Homura lifted her head up slightly and nodded. “All…all right.”  
  
The three of them of them turned and walked slowly into the graying light outside.  
  
Mami’s heart was heavy, but as she looked over at Kyoko, head still bowed in what might have been prayer, she also felt a kind of warmth that shouldn’t have been as strange as it was.  
  
After all, they had known each other for ages.


End file.
